


What Hurts The Most

by Clotpole_and_his_Lionheart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Episode: s01e20 Dead Man's Blood, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Serious Injuries, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12462006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clotpole_and_his_Lionheart/pseuds/Clotpole_and_his_Lionheart
Summary: With a swift, coordinating movement of his arms, a loud snap rang through the night. Dead Man's Blood AU.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this back in 2006 (when I was 15!) for ff.net -- decided to edit a few things and post it on here. Only took 11 years! XD
> 
> Also, keep in mind that I wrote this long before I became an RN, so some of the medical stuff may be a bit off.

Adrenaline exploded through Dean's veins as he sprinted toward the knife lying on the ground. He heard Sam grunt as he hit the ground full-force after being clothes-lined by Luther. Dean had just assumed Sam had fought him off, until he spun around to find Luther's arm wrapped around Sam's neck in a tight, unforgiving grip. He heard his brother gasping for air as the arm across his neck increasingly cut off his air supply. 

Dean grabbed the knife.

"Don't! I'll break his neck. Put the blade down." Luther threatened, holding tight onto Sam.

Dean stood firm, still holding the knife in midair. Luther's grip tightened and Sam desperately gasped for any oxygen he could get. Dean knew that the man wasn't messing around. He gently released the knife from his hand. It hit the ground with a loud, echoing clank in the silence of the night. Dean watching with intensity as Luther made no move to release Sam.

"Let him go! I put the knife down, what more do you want?" Dean yelled to Luther, anger and fear evident in his voice.

"Revenge." With a swift, coordinating movement of his arms, a loud snap rang through the night. Sam fell motionless to the ground.

Dean's mind didn't register what had happened until he saw Sam lying motionless on the cement at Luther's feet.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Dean yelled with rage, grabbing the knife and charging toward Luther at full speed. He attacked the vampire with no mercy, stabbing him with quick motions of the knife. He stayed clear of the vital organs, wanting to inflict as much pain on Luther as Dean was feeling inside. He put the knife to Luther's neck, looking him straight in the eye. He received an unemotional glare in return.

"You do not deserve to live any longer. And I will gladly take it upon myself to make sure that you don't." In one swift motion, Dean brought down the knife. It was done. Luther's eyes stared up at him, unseeing. Dean took a moment to breathe, but quickly recovered as he remembered why he had done this in the first place. 

Sammy.

\---

Sam ran through the woods toward the remaining vampires, but was stopped short as an arm came out of nowhere and hit him in the face. He landed hard on the cement, his body aching instantly. Before he got the chance to react, he was lifted from the ground and pulled tight against someone. He felt the arm around his neck tighten as the man began to speak. He recognized that the voice belonged to Luther, but he could not make out the words being said. Sam looked straight ahead and saw Dean standing defensively, holding a knife in the air. His vision became blurred around the edges as the arm around his neck tightened like a vice, cutting off his air supply completely. As Sam fought to stay conscious, another arm came across his chest. He was confused for a moment, then he felt the arms work together. They twisted Sam's neck and he felt a snap, then saw darkness.

\---

Dean turned and ran to where Sam had fallen. He was lying on his side, motionless, facing the woods opposite Dean. He knelt down next to Sam, gently turning him onto his back, support his potentially-damaged neck. His hands shook with nerves as he reached to find Sam's pulse. He let out a shaky breath when he felt the familiar beat beneath his fingertips. It was thready, but it was still a pulse. He pulled out his cell phone to dial 911, but stopped when he heard a cough.

"Sam?"

Another cough came, this time with blood. It was followed by a pained groan.

"Sammy? Don't move anything." Dean warned, in a calm tone.

"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice quiet and strained. The blood had begun to leave a trail down his pale skin.

"Ssh. Just hold on. I'm going to call an ambulance. Just hold on."

"Dean? Tell Dad-"

"Sam, no. I'm not telling Dad anything. You can do that yourself. You're gonna be fine. Just hang on."

"I love you, Dean." Sam's eyes rolled back, and he went limp once again.

"Sam! NO! SAMMY!" Dean shouted, carefully holding his brother tighter in his arms.

"NO!"

\---

Sam woke to a voice. He coughed, sending shooting pains through his neck and head. He focused harder on the voice, and recognized it to be his brother's. He coughed once more, feeling a metallic tasting liquid quickly rise into his mouth and onto his lips.

"Dean?" He asked, trying hard to stay awake. He knew his time was limited and he had things he needed to say. He heard Dean telling him something about an ambulance and having to hold on. Sam knew it must be bad if Dean was calling an ambulance.

"Dean? Tell Dad-" Sam tried to finish but Dean cut him off. He wanted him to tell Dad that he was sorry and that he never meant to disappoint him. He wanted him to tell Dad that he loves him. Dean told him that he can do it himself. Sam knew that wasn't going to happen.

"I love you, Dean." Sam managed, before the darkness came once again and took him away, leaving the pain behind.


	2. Chapter Two

"Dean? What's going on?" John asked, as he walking from behind a car. Dean was kneeling on the ground near something just out of view. When he reached the front of the car, his breath hitched as he saw the motionless figure of his youngest son.

"Sam? Dean, what the hell happened?"

"Dad, you gotta get rid of the bodies and their car. The ambulance is on its way." Dean said, avoiding eye contact with his father.

"Dean, just tell me what happened first!" John pressed the issue. He had just gotten close enough to see that Sam was unconscious, with blood on his lips and chin.

"It was Luther. He...I think he broke Sammy's neck." Dean said, his voice breaking.

"What? How could you let this happen?"

"DAD! WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS RIGHT NOW! JUST GET RID OF THEM BEFORE THE AMBULANCE GETS HERE!"

John could tell Dean's patience was running thin. He walked to Luther's car and moved it deep into the woods, where it wouldn't be found. He disposed of the bodies of the vampires as best he could, and covered his tracks. He had killed them all quickly, without much struggle. 

John walked back over to his boys. "How long did they say it would take them to get here?"

"About 7 minutes. We're pretty far out from town."

John looked over at his youngest. It pained him to know that he couldn't do anything for Sam. He turned when he heard the siren of the ambulance approaching.

"Finally."

\---

Dean watched as the ambulance pulled to a stop and two Paramedics jumped out of the back. There was a man with short, curly brown hair, who looked like he'd been doing this for years. There was also a woman with long, straight blonde hair, who looked a bit afraid of what she might see. They both came running toward him and Sam with their supplies.

"What happened?" The male paramedic, Lucas, asked Dean, who thought quickly to come up with an answer. He had come up with so many stories before, but this time seemed much more difficult. His mind was too clouded to think straight. 

"He was hit by a car. It came out of nowhere." Dean said, sounding as believable as possible.

"What was he doing out here?" The female paramedic, Kirsten, questioned.

John's voice boomed from behind them. "We lost our dog a few days ago. We were driving through here and thought we saw him. Sam jumped out to look but didn't find him. He was coming back to the car when it happened."

"Sam? Sam? Can you hear me?" Kirsten rubbing her knuckles against his sternum. Sam remained unresponsive. Lucas was examining Sam's neck, frowning when he noticed something not quite right.

"Possible neck fracture. Hand me the collar." Lucas said, placing the c-collar around Sam's neck carefully. "We can't waste any more time. He needs to get the hospital. Get the backboard and the stretcher." Kirsten ran and got both, and when she returned, they carefully loaded Sam into the ambulance.

"Is one of you coming with us or will you follow?" Lucas asked the two men.

"We'll follow in our truck." John spoke up, before Dean got the chance to answer.

"Okay. And don't worry. We're doing everything possible to help Sam."

"Thanks." Dean said and followed his father, quickly, to the truck. 

\---

The ride to the hospital was completely silent. Both men were thinking the worst, but hoping for the best.

When they arrived at the hospital, Sam had already been brought back behind the red doors. John and Dean walked to the information desk, where a young receptionist sat behind the computer. She was pretty, her long brown hair full of tight ringlets. She was the kind of pretty Dean would hit on, but right now, the thought didn't even cross his mind. He needed to know about his brother.

"Can I help you?" She asked, in a sweet voice. It was slightly soothing to Dean and John, who were in a masked panic. 

"I'm looking for my son. He was just recently brought in. Sam Winchester?" John said, impatience clear in his voice.

She typed in the name and waited for the information to come up. "He is still being looked at. If you could take a seat in the waiting room behind you, someone should come out and get you when they're ready."

John was about to argue, when Dean stepped in.

"Thanks..."

"Natalie."

"Thanks, Natalie. Do you know how long it will take?"

"It really depends on how bad his injury is. I don't get much information here, so I really can't tell you. Sorry."

Dean turned and walked to over to the plastic chairs in the waiting area. John followed behind him, and they both sat down to wait. John put his head against the back of the chair and stared at the ceiling. Dean had his head in his hands, horrible thoughts and images running through his head. He could still hear the snap of Sam's neck. He knew it would haunt him for the rest of his life. How could this have happened? Why is Sam always the one that gets hurt?

\---

After about three hours of waiting, a doctor finally came out from behind the doors. Dean and John looked up at him. The expression on the man's face was grim. He looked tired and defeated. Dean's stomach dropped and he felt nauseous when the doctor spoke.

"Family for Samuel Winchester?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter Three

Dean walked toward the room slowly, afraid of what he might see. Dr. Harris had attempted to prepare them for what he would see when he walked into the room. When he walked in, he realized that nothing could have prepared him for what was before his eyes. Dean struggled to hold back the bile that was quickly rising in his throat. The body before him could not have been his brother's. It was a lifeless shell that resembled his baby brother.

Dean slowly made his way to Sam's side, afraid to touch him. He didn't want to inflict any more pain on him that had already been done. Dean pulled up a chair next to Sam's bed and sat down. He carefully grasped Sam's hand in his own, watching out for all of the wires that were keeping his brother alive. Dean thought back to what Dr. Harris had told him.

\----

_Dr. Harris brought Dean and John back to a small consultation room to discuss Sam's condition. Dean was expecting the worst, if the defeated look on the doctor's face was any indication. Dean took a deep breath and held it as the doctor began to speak._

_"Sam's alive."_

_Dean let out that breath he been so desperately holding._

_"For now."_

_Oh god. That didn't help._

_"What do you mean, 'for now'." Dean asked, anger and fear showing in his voice._

_"Well, as you may have already realized, Sam came in here with a fractured neck. It has been broken in a dangerous spot, which may result in partial paralysis. We won't know for sure until he wakes up."_

_"When will that be?" John asked, finally managing to use his voice._

_"It could be few hours, even a few days."_

_Dean couldn't process this information fast enough. He just wanted to go back to the time before the accident, when his dad said not to come help. He and Sam should have just left town like they were told. Of all the times Dean disobeyed an order, which was never, Sam had to have gotten hurt. Why is it always Sammy?_

\----

Dean knew that he only had a few minutes with Sam, to see him and just embrace the fact that he's still alive. His dad still needed his chance to do the same. Dean had insisted that he got to see him first, knowing that he would not calm down until he felt his brother's warm hand and heard the beat of his heart. But he was still afraid to look at Sam. He didn't want the memories brought back from earlier that night. It still pained him to know that he could have done something, anything, to prevent this.

Dean finally raised his eyes to the face of his little brother. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw, for the first time, the tube protruding from Sam's mouth, breathing for him. He listened, and for the first time, heard the click and swoosh of air, as oxygen was brought in and out of Sam's lungs. He watched, and for the first time, he saw as his brother's chest mechanically rose up and down with each sound of the ventilator. He saw, for the first time, the brace covering Sam's neck. It held it in place, as they waited for his awakening, to find out if he would ever walk again. Sam's face and lips were pale. His chestnut hair stood out even more now.

It became too much for Dean to handle, and he turned his head away. He needed Sam to be okay. _What would I do without him? I need him with me._

"Sam. Oh god, Sammy. Please, wake up. Everything will be alright, trust me. Those doctors don't know us Winchesters. We'll bounce back from anything. You hear that, Sammy? Anything. Even this." He released Sam's hand and carefully sat it back onto the bed. He walked toward the door, knowing that his dad was waiting impatiently on the other side, wanting to see his youngest son. Before opening the door, he turned back to Sam one last time and spoke.

"I love you, Sammy."


	4. Chapter Four

John walked into the room as unprepared as Dean. It pained him to see his youngest son in this condition, so helpless, so lifeless. He was supposed to protect Sam from this, like a father should.

Mirroring Dean's actions from just minutes before, John took a seat in the chair beside Sam's bed and carefully took his hand. He sat unmoving for a moment, still trying to take in his surroundings. The white walls. The irritating, yet reassuring beeps of the heart monitor. The click and swoosh of the ventilator. The pale young man laying unconscious on the bed.

John thought about what to say to Sam, never having been in this position before. Sure, Sam had been injured before on hunts, like the angry spirit in Ohio back in 1995. Sam was still so young, and had been upset about having to miss school to go along. He and Dean were sent into the warehouse, while John salted and burned the bones. The spirit began to catch on to what they were doing and wouldn't let it happen without a fight. John was still out in the cemetery, so the boys had to put up a hell of a fight. It managed to throw Sam around a bit, while Dean watched, not being able to do anything. Sam ended up with a mild concussion, a broken arm, and other cuts and bruises. He spent two nights in the hospital, and that was the worst that had happened to him until tonight.

"Hey, Sammy. I'm not really sure what to say here. Um...gosh. I know we've had our differences and our share of fights, but I want you to know that it doesn't mean I don't love you. All those times I pushed you away, or made you feel unloved, it was just to protect you. Ever since Mary...ever since that night, I have worried that I would lose you and your brother. I just couldn't handle that pain again, and I treated you wrong. I know we lead dangerous lives, and nothing can change that." John took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "The day you told me that you got accepted to Stanford, I knew that if you had gone, I wouldn't be able to protect you anymore. I didn't mean for you to think I was disappointed in you. I was damn proud of you, but my fear got the best of me. I said things that I shouldn't have and I want you to know that I regret telling you to never come back. I didn't mean it. I just got caught up in the moment. I love you Sammy, and I just want you to be safe."

John was letting his emotions show and it scared him. It took a lot for that to happen. He knew the situation was bad, and he wanted to make sure he said the things he needed to say, just in case. Even if Sam couldn't hear him, it still lifted a bit of weight off of his shoulders when he said what he needed to say.

John looked at Sam. "Oh, Sammy." He lifted his hand and brushed Sam's unruly mop of hair off of his pale face. "You really need to do something about your hair. I'm sure Dean has been on your case about that. We used to secretly plan to chop it off in the middle of the night while you were sleeping." John laughed. "Dean almost did it once...but you woke up as he walked in. I know you two always pranked each other, and I have to say...Dean would have won with that."

John sat, awkwardly, for a few minutes until his time ran out. He and Dean would have to find somewhere to stay overnight, seeing as how visiting hours were already over, and they weren't allowed to stay any longer than they are now.

"I've gotta go, Sammy. I'll be back tomorrow morning. I love you." John said, kissing his son on the forehead.

John stood up and walked to the door. He took one last look at Sam's unconscious form, and left. He found Dean seated on a bench, with his head down, just across the hall. John walked up to him and put a hand on his son's shoulder. Dean stood up quickly and looked at him.

"Let's go, Dean. There's not much we can do until tomorrow." He noticed the unshed tears in Dean's eyes, and pulled him into a hug.

"It's okay, Dean. He'll be alright. He's a Winchester."

It felt good for John to say that, but he wasn't completely sure if he believed it.


	5. Chapter Five

John and Dean walked out of the hospital, heading for the truck.

"Dad, my car's still at the other motel. You can just drop me off there." Dean said, opening the passenger door.

"We'll stop there and you can get the car. We'll find somewhere to stay together, closer to Sammy." John replied, putting the key in the ignition and starting the engine. "We'll come back in the morning. There's nothing we can do right now."

The entire ride to the Impala was silent. Neither man spoke to the other, other than which music station to put on. The music was the only thing drowning out their thoughts, temporarily.

When they made it to the Impala, a half-hour later, Dean quickly jumped out. John spoke first.

"I saw a motel about twenty minutes back. Just head back toward the hospital. You'll see it off the highway. It's the only one in the area."

"Okay." Dean avoided making eye contact with his father. He turned to his car.

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

"It's gonna be okay. He's a fighter."

Dean just nodded and walked the rest of the way to his car. He got in and waited until he heard his father's truck leave. When it was gone, he leaned his head onto the steering wheel and cried.

\----

The sun was preparing to rise when Dean woke up. He looked over at the alarm clock.

5:30am.

John was still fast asleep in the bed next to Dean. A small twinge of panic laced through Dean's heart when he didn't see Sam, and even more so when he remembered where Sam actually was. The events of last night replayed like horror movie in his mind.

Dean jumped out of bed and went into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and red from crying himself to sleep. He splashed some water on his face, the tear tracks disappearing. 

Dean never cried. He never let his weaknesses show. The only thing that affected him enough to let go is Sam. Now that Sam was in the hospital, he lost it. _Things weren't supposed to happen like this. I was supposed to protect him. It's my fault that he may never walk again._

Dean changed his clothes and left the bathroom quietly, as not to wake up his father. He grabbed the motel-labeled notepad and left a note for his dad.

_Dad,_

_Couldn't sleep. Needed to see Sammy. Didn't want to wake you._

_Come when you're ready._

_-Dean_

He left it on the table and grabbed his keys.

\----

Dean walked into the hospital and toward Sam's room, but was stopped by the receptionist.

"Sir, you can't go back there."

"I'm just going to see my brother." Dean said, stopping at the desk.

"Visiting hours don't start for another..." She glanced down at her watch. "...half-hour. The doctors are completing their rounds." Seeing Dean's devastated expression, she knew she had to do something about it. "What's your brother's name?"

"Sam Winchester." Dean couldn't hide the hope in his voice.

The receptionist - Jill - typed the name into the computer and read it over.

"Well, the doctor his already seen him this morning, so I guess I could sneak you back there." She said, smiling.

"Thanks."

Dean followed Jill to Sam's room, where she left him to be alone with his brother. It got harder and harder for him to walk into the room each time. He'd only done it twice, and he knew it would be getting harder. He pulled up the same chair from the night before to the side of the bed.

"Hey Sammy." Sam looked so pale against the white sheets. Dean put Sam's hand in his. "You gotta wake up, little brother. Things aren't the same without you. Dad and I are worried about you, man. We need you to open your eyes. Let us know you're okay." Dean watched Sam's face for any sign that he would wake up. He found none.

"Dad found the colt. Maybe now we can actually stop all this. You wanna be there when it happens, don't you? I know you do. Dad's close on it's trail. He's still here. He wants to make sure you're okay before he goes anywhere." Dean laughed. "I'd give anything to hear you two argue right now. I never thought I'd hear myself say that."

Dean yawned. His lack of sleep was catching up with him. A small, almost undetected, movement alerted Dean. He stood up and leaned over Sam.

"Sammy? Can you hear me? Open your eyes. It's okay. It's me, Dean." Dean waited for another movement and jumped when Sam's eyes flew wide open. They met with Dean's and had panic written all over them. Sam was choking on the breathing tube down his throat.

"Sammy, don't fight it. Let it breathe for you." Dean spoke in a calm voice, and watched as Sam began to relax at the sound of his voice and the hand on his forehead. "That's it, Sammy. Good job. Your doctor is coming." Dean pressed the button, alerting the nurse's station.

\----

Dean watched the doorway as the doctor extubated Sam and the nurse gave him some pain medication via IV.

"Dean?" Sam asked, scared that he couldn't turn his head to find him.

"Right here, Sammy." Dean grabbed Sam's hand.

"Dean? What happened?"

"You had an accident. We'll talk more about it later. Dr. Harris has to ask you some questions."

"Okay."

Dr. Harris began to assess Sam on various things.

"Sam? Can you tell me your full name?"

"Samuel Winchester."

"Good. Do you know where you are?"

Sam looked around at the white walls. "Hospital?"

"Good job. Do you feel any pain?"

"My neck hurts. That's it."

"Okay. Can you try and wiggle your toes for me?"

Dean watched Sam's feet intently after Dr. Harris asked him the question. Just seconds after, Dean bowed his head and let out a quiet, strangled cry.


	6. Chapter Six

Sam winced as he tried to move his feet. Dean put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. He squeezed Sam's hand.

"It's gonna be okay, Sammy. We'll get through this together." Dean gave Sam a reassuring smile.

"Okay, Sam. I'll come back in a few hours so we can discuss your condition. Things are going to be difficult for a while, but you're young and seem to have a lot of support." Dr. Harris left the room, leaving Dean and Sam to talk.

"So, how are you feeling?" Dean asked, finding his voice.

"Sore. My neck doesn't hurt as much as it did right when I woke up, though." Sam replied, his eyes searching for Dean. "I can't see you, Dean. Move closer." 

Dean scooted his chair closer to Sam and positioned himself where Sam could see him.

"Good?"

"Yeah." Sam said, looking Dean in the eye. "What happened, Dean? The last thing I remember is running through the woods with you, going after..." Sam's voice quieted, as to not raise suspicion. "...the vampires."

"Well, Luther hit you, then grabbed you around the neck." Memories rushed back to Dean as he tried to explain what happened. "He, uh, he threatened to break your neck if I didn't put down the machete. I put it down, but he lied and he," Dean's voice broke. "God...you just fell and you didn't get up." Dean looked away from Sam, embarrassed by how emotional he was becoming.

"Is my neck broken?" Sam asked, fear evident in his quiet voice.

Dean took a deep breath. "Yes, Sammy. It's broken."

Tears began to well up in Sam's eyes. "Now what? Where's dad? Is he okay? They didn't get him, did they?"

"No, Sammy. Dad's fine. He's at the motel. I let him sleep in. He's really worried about you, man. I should go call him. I'll be right back."

"Okay. But could you fix my blanket? My feet are getting cold."

Dean smiled. _His feet are getting cold! I never thought I'd be so happy for something so simple._

It still hadn't completely sunk in yet. Sam was going to be fine. 

He fixed Sammy's blanket and left to call his dad.


	7. Chapter Seven

John was sleeping when his cell phone rang. Eyes still closed, he answered it.

"Hello?"

"Dad?"

"Dean?" He looked over to the other bed. It was empty. "What are you doing? Where are you?" Panic was clear in his voice.

"I'm at the hospital. I didn't wanna wake you up."

The panic was really beginning to set in. "Hospital? Is Sam okay? Nothing happened, right?"

"Yeah, dad. Sam's awake, actually. He just woke up."

"How is he?" John was afraid to hear the response to that question, praying that it wasn't what he though it was going to be.

"He's fine, Dad. He's in a bit of pain, but he has feeling in his legs. He's not paralyzed."

John let out a breath. It was just what he wanted to hear. "Thank God. I'm gonna be there in a few minutes. I'm on my way."

"Okay. See you in a bit."

John closed the cell phone and sat for a minute, letting the news sink in. His youngest son has survived a deadly injury, without any long term repercussions. It's about time something good happened to this family. John changed his clothes and grabbed his keys, leaving the motel room.

\----

John rushed through the main entrance of the hospital and raced toward his Sammy's room. The drive from the motel had seemed like it had lasted hours, when in reality, it was only a few minutes. He was just too anxious to see his youngest son among the living.

When he had reached Sam's room, John took in a breath before slowly opening the door. Sam was still laying flat on the bed, but now with Dean seated beside him with his feet propped up on the bed. Dean turned when he entered.

"Hey, boys." John greeted them with a tired, yet enthusiastic voice.

"Hey, dad." John's heart almost ceased to beat upon hearing those two words come from the bed.

"Sammy, how are you feeling?"

"Good, considering. The drugs are treating me well." Sam ended with a bright smile.

John laughed. "What did the doctor say?"

"He's gonna come back in a little while to check on Sam. He'll tell us more then."

"Okay, but everything's alright?"

"Yeah, dad. Everything's alright."

\----

"So, he's gonna be fine?" John asked.

"Yep. According to his x-ray, his neck was broken at a position that caused minimal nerve damage, and is allowing him to gain full use of his lower extremities. He may have some residual decreased sensation in his feet, but so far everything is looking great. He is a very lucky young man." Dr. Harris explained.

"Thanks, doctor." Dean replied, a soft smile spread across his face.

"They should be bringing Sam back from X-Ray soon, so you can tell him the good news as you like."

"How much longer will he have to stay here?"

"Well, I'm gonna give him another couple of days, and see if he's ready to leave."

"Thanks again, doctor." John shook the doctor's hand.

"It's no problem. I'm happy to see that he's going to be alright." He turned with one last greeting and exited.

\----

It was about 20 minutes after Dr. Harris left that Sam was wheeled back into his room. He was asleep peacefully upon returning, wrapped up in multiple blankets. Dean noticed how young he looked. After the nurses got Sam set up and left, Dean took a seat beside his brother. His father had gone to get some coffee no more than 2 minutes ago, so he had plenty of time to spend alone with Sam.

Dean reached up and brushed the bangs away from Sam's eyes. "Hey, Sammy."

Sam's eyes fluttered, and opened slowly.

"Dean."

"Yep, buddy. I'm right here. Guess what?"

"Hmm?"

"The doctor came in while you were gone, and he said that you can get out of here in a couple of days. Isn't that awesome?"

"Yeah. Where's Dad?" Dean noticed the quick flash of panic in Sam's eyes with the question.

"Don't worry, he's just getting some coffee. He's really glad you're okay. You should have seen the smile on his face when the doctor told him." Dean assured him.

"I'm glad." Sam closed his eyes. "So a couple days, huh? Where are you and Dad staying?"

"There's a motel a few minutes from the hospital. We'll be here at the start of visitor hours everyday."

"Good. What time is it?"

"Um, ten minutes to 12. I'll stay until then, but then dad and I will grab some lunch. You have to get some sleep soon."

"Okay." Sam sighed heavily. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Thanks."

Dean looked puzzled. "For what?"

"For everything. For just being my brother."

"Aww, Sammy, you're not getting all 'chick flick moment' on me, are you?"

Sam laughed in reply.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"You're welcome."

Dean received a smile in reply, and watched as Sam's breathing evened out, falling asleep.


	8. Chapter Eight

"Ready to go Sammy?" Dean stepped into the doorway of Sam's room, pushing an empty wheelchair before him. A couple of days had passed since Sam had been told his final diagnosis. It would take a few months, and some strenuous physical therapy, but Sam would be able to make a full recovery. Sure, he may not be able to whip his head around quick for a few years, but who does that anyway?

"I've been ready for days." Sam, who was buttoning his shirt, flashed a quick smile toward Dean, who laughed.

"I bet you have." He pushed the chair toward the bed, and helped to lower Sam into it. "Dad's got the Impala out front all warmed up."

Dean grabbed the rest of Sam's things and they both left the room. During his stay, Sam had become the nurses' favorite, with his adorable looks and charming attitude. So, as Dean pushed him down the halls, they would keep stopping as every nurse who had previously come in contact with Sam would either hug him, or pat him on the shoulder, saying goodbye and good luck. Dean was starting to get jealous.

They had made it out of the hospital safely, both men whole, and John greeted them with the Impala. The back door was open, ready for Sam to get inside.

"So, dad, where are we gonna stay?" Sam asked, stepping out of the wheelchair and slowly getting into the back of the car. He was struggling to not hit his head, his neck brace working against him.

"Well, I talked to one of the doctors working at the hospital who said he owns an apartment complex, and he can get us a first floor apartment to use until you are done with your physical therapy. It's in pretty good shape and not too expensive."

"But what about hunting? Isn't it going to be hard for you to run back and forth all the time?" Sam asked, buckling his seat belt.

"Hunting is gonna stop for awhile. I think it's time we start being a family while you get back to normal."

"Are you sure, Dad? I mean, what about the demon?"

"We'll think about it when something comes up, okay Sammy?"

"Okay, dad." Sam smiled as John shut the door. He walked over to the driver's side and got in, as Dean hopped into the passenger seat. They were actually going to a _home_.

\----

The Impala pulled up to a large apartment building about 20 minutes from the hospital. It was a large, brick building with white doors and white patios. Sam couldn't help but laugh at the white picket fence that surrounded the building's front lawn. It was almost what he had always pictured his family would live in, before life had other plans for them.

Once the car was stopped in the 10-car garage, the three Winchesters got out of the car and brought the few bags holding their entire lives into such a big apartment.

Sam was the first to open the door. The three of them were greeted with a big kitchen, on their left, and a dining room to the right. Straight back, was a large living room, already furnished with two tan couches, a recliner, and a decent size television. Dean was the first to speak up.

"Niiiiice!" Dean threw his bag onto the dining room table and jumped onto the big couch.

"Are you sure this isn't too expensive? I mean, this place _looks_ expensive." Sam questioned.

"The doctor said he could give us a good deal on it, since we're not using it for too long."

"Good, 'cuz I'm loving it already." Dean said, his feet already propped up on the couch, eyes closed.

Sam walked over to Dean and threw his bag on his chest. Dean grunted.

"Come on, Dean. Let's check out the rooms."

There was a hallway to the left of the living room, with four white, closed doors. The first door, on the right, was a bathroom, with a long counter, two sinks, a toilet, and a shower/bath combo. The second door, on the left, was a decent size bedroom. It was occupied with a twin bed, a desk, and a dresser in the corner. The third door, also on the left, was a mirror image of the first bedroom. The fourth and final door, on the right, was a slightly larger room, with a full-size bed, also with a desk and dresser.

"I CALL THE BIG ROOM!" Dean ran like a four-year-old on Christmas Day into the last room and slammed the door.

"Nice try, Dean. The oldest gets first pick, and I want that one. Besides, I wouldn't be fair to your brother if you get the bigger room." John laughed, and looked at Sam, who was also laughing at his brother's childish antics.

The bedroom door opened slowly. "Fiiiine." Dean groaned. "Then I get the one closest to the bathroom. 'Cuz I said so."

Sam rolled his eyes. "How old _are_ you, Dean?" Dean just growled and threw his bag onto the bed in his new room. Sam did the same to his bag, but in his own room.

"So, who's up for some chinese?" John offered, as he walked into the living room, where his sons were both on the larger couch together, watching tv.

"I am! What about you, Sam?" Dean asked, smacking Sam, who was dozing off, in the arm.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. Chinese sounds good, Dad."

"Great, I'll go get it."

\----

After about 20 minutes, John arrived back at the apartment with the food. He sat the food on the table and was about to call for the boys when he noticed how quiet it was. He walked into the living room, and saw both Dean and Sam asleep on the couch. Sam was slouched down, with Dean's head on his shoulder. He knew his sons would be quite embarrassed when they woke up, and would deny it completely, so he took in the sweet scene as much as he could before it wouldn't be spoken of again. He grabbed a bucket of food and sat down in the recliner. He couldn't help but watch his boys as they slept so peacefully on the couch. It was just like back when they were younger, and John would come from work to find Mary asleep in the couch, with Dean asleep against side, baby Sammy in his arms. He snapped back to reality when he felt a warm trickle down his cheek. He wiped at it quickly, and began to eat his food. 

He could get used to this.

They were a family again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Please be gentle. I don't write often and I'm terribly self-conscious about it!


End file.
